A Fresh Start
by Fictionlover1194
Summary: So this is for the 1989 film. Basically Richard started the fire in the Phantom's lair, and Christine doesn't hate the Phantom. I'm starting from when she returns to the 20th century.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I do not own these characters. I simply borrow them for my amusement.**

Christine's POV:

I was slowly becoming aware of my surroundings. My head hurt, so I kept my eyes shut. I could hear Meg coming closer too me. She sounded worried.

"Oh my God! Chris, Chris are you okay?" Her voice got closer. "You could have killed somebody!" Meg shouted. I wasn't sure who she was shouting at, my mind was feeling a little foggy.

Christine could hear footsteps and voices coming toward her.

"Chris, come on, Chris. You're gonna be okay." She heard Meg again.

"What happened?" I heard a man's voice. "Is she all right?"

I could hear more voices, but couldn't quite make them out. Then one voice got louder than the rest. That's when I finally felt I could try and open my eyes. The first face I saw was a man I thought I knew, although I couldn't place him. It was as if we had met years ago, or far away, in some half forgotten dream.

"Who are you?" I asked, still trying to place him.

"A very relieved admirer." He responded. "Thought we lost the star of our show there for a minute."

"This is Mr. Foster, Miss Day. Our producer and major backer." Said the man standing next to me.

"Well I guess that makes me an authority on, how you'll be spending your time for a while." Mr. Foster said.

"I don't understand." I said, still trying to grasp what was going on around me.

"Excuse me. Christine, the part is yours." Mr. Foster said.

I smile, I'm so happy. I can't believe that I actually got the part. This all feels a little surreal.

"Unless, of course, you've changed your mind." Mr. Foster said, helping me up and looking above the stage. When he touched me, my hands felt a shock go through them.

"Don't say another word Chris." Meg said, before I could even respond. Just like Meg to take charge of something like this. "I umm… I represent Miss Day, and before we go any further I would like to have something in writing."

Mr. Foster gestured to the other man who immediately stepped in. "Uh, you will have it in writing don't you worry." He takes Meg and leads off of the stage. "Uh, come on over here, we'll have a coffee."

"You sure you're okay?" Mr. Foster asked me. Now that we're alone, that feeling of familiarity returns, although I still can't place it. it's a warm feeling, making me think of when he held my hand.

"I'm a little shaky." I respond honestly.

"You uh, you look like you could use a drink." He said, helping me into my jacket. "Come on, they'll be haggling terms for hours." He offers me his arm and we leave the theatre.


	2. Drinks

**A/N: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. I merely play with them for my amusement.**

Christine's POV:

We had just arrived at a bar and ordered our drinks. I looked at him and couldn't shake that feeling of familiarity. So I decided to ask. "I know this may sound strange, but have we met before?"

He looked surprised for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. "No, we haven't. I'm sure I would remember meeting a young woman as beautiful as you." He replied.

I turned my head away, trying to hide my blush.

Our drinks arrived. A ceasar for him, and a rum and coke for me. I was never much of a drinker.

"So, tell me more about yourself Christine." He said.

"Well, as I said at the audition, I'm in my second year at Julliard. I'm studying performance and classical music."

"That's quite interesting. What made you want to try out for Faust? I ask simply because not many women your age even know what Faust is." He said with a chuckle.

I smiled. "It's all of my classical studies. One of my courses last year was on plays from Europe in the 19th century."

"You are a very interesting woman Christine."

"Thank you." I replied. "What about you? What's your role in all this? I'm sorry, but I think I missed some of your introduction at the theatre. I was still a little hazy."

"That's quite all right." He said, covering my hand for a moment. "I'm the producer of the show. I wanted to do a production of Faust, because the story has always intrigued me and I wanted to see if it could still reach audiences in the 20th century."

"What else do you do? I find it hard to believe that all you do with your time is produce plays." I said, giving him a small smile.

Again, surprise. "Well, not many people know this, but I also compose music in my free time." He looked away, a little embarrassed.

"That sounds wonderful. May I hear some of it?" I asked.

"Well, the piece I'm working on isn't finished yet, but when it is, maybe." He said, giving me a small smile.

"I would like that." I said.

"Oh, look at the time. I should get you home before it's too late." He said, glancing at his watch.

"You don't have too."

"Oh, but I want too." He said.

He led me from the bar and hailed us a cab. I told the driver where I lived and we were off. We didn't speak during the short drive to my apartment, but that was okay. It was a comfortable silence, not an awkward one. Sooner than I expected we had arrived.

"I look forward to seeing you at rehearsals in a couple of days." He said, smiling at me.

"I look forward to seeing you too." I smiled back.

Then he did the most unexpected thing and took my hand and kissed it. For a moment my heart skipped a beat.

"Good night Christine."

"Good night Mr. Foster."

"Please, call me Erik."

"Good night Erik." I climbed out of the cab and walked into my apartment building.

Once I was inside my own apartment I collapsed onto my bed. I picked up the phone and immediately called Meg. She picked up on the second ring.

"Meg, you need to come over first thing in the morning."

**A/N: Please rate and review.**


	3. A Talk With Meg

**A/N: I don't own Phantom of the Opera. I just borrow them for my own amusement.**

Christine's POV:

I woke up the next morning with a nervous excitement. The way I'd felt with Erik last night… I'd never felt anything like it before. I got butterflies in my stomach and when he touched me, my skin felt warm and tingly.

I heard a knock on the door and ran to answer it. "Meg!"

"Christine, now will you tell me what's going on? You sounded almost panicked last night." She looked at me with a worried expression.

I walked with her into my living room and we both sat on the couch. "I was a little, now I'm more confused… excited." I tried to come up with the right words for how I was feeling.

"About what?" She asked. "You got the part, Mr. Foster said so last night. I worked out your contract and everything is good to go."

I smiled at her. "That's great to hear, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." I looked at my hands nervously, unsure of what to say. Hell, I wasn't even sure what I was feeling, but that is why I asked Meg over in the first place.

"Well then, what is it?" She asked.

"I went out for a drink with Erik last night." I started.

"Who's Erik?"

"Mr. Foster." I blushed a little.

"So, you went for drinks…" She got me going again.

"Well, it was nice. We had a good time, got to know one another." I paused.

"And?" She prompted.

"I think I may have feelings for him Meg." I said quietly.

She looked at me, taking in my silence. Then her eyes went wide. "You mean romantically?"

"Yes, or at least I think so." I said.

"You think so? Christine, either you do or you don't. Besides, you just met him yesterday."

"I know Meg! I just…" I sighed. "I get this feeling around him, like I've know him forever. It's as if we've met before, had a relationship before. I just can't remember where."

"You think you've met him before?" She asked, trying to understand what I was poorly explaining to her. What I barely understood myself.

"Yes, except that I can't for the life of me remember!" I let out a frustrated breath. "I even asked him if he remembered meeting me before. He said he didn't, but then why do I feel this way?"

"I don't know Christine. So, what are you going to do about it?" She asked.

"I'm not sure. I guess I'll just start the show and see how things go." I shrugged. "Maybe something will happen over time. That, or nothing will happen and I'm just crazy."

"You're not crazy. If you didn't find him attractive, then I'd think you were crazy." She chuckled.

"Meg! I was talking about more than a physical attraction." I swatted her arm playfully.

"I know, but you do have to admit, he is pretty good looking." She gave me a sly smile.

"Yeah, I guess he is." I said after thinking about it for a moment. "I guess that just didn't cross my mind. I was too caught up in our conversation to really appreciate his looks."

"Ah Christine! Such the innocent." Meg smiled.

"Hey!" I replied.

**A/N: Please R&amp;R!**


	4. Meeting the Cast

**A/N: Sorry for not updating in a while. I was on vacation last week, plus I've had a bit of writer's block. Anyway, I don't own Phantom of the Opera. Also, not very familiar with Faust, so please forgive me if I make mistakes. Here you go.**

Christine's POV:

I walked into the theatre and followed the flow of people walking towards the stage. I got there and saw a man telling people where to go, I assumed he was the director and went to introduce myself.

"Hello, I'm Christine." I said, putting out my hand to shake.

He took it, smiling. "Hi, I'm Mr. Drake. I'm the director of the show."

I chuckled. "So I guessed. Where do you want me?"

"On stage with the rest of the principal cast." He gestured to the stage where only a small group of people were standing and chatting with each other.

"Ah! You must be Christine!" A tall man with broad shoulders and strong build walked towards me. He had light brown hair and eyes and a kind smile.

"I'm afraid I'm at a disadvantage." I said with a small smile.

"I'm James Brooks, I'll be playing Faust. If I'm not mistaken, you'll be my Marguerite."

"That would be correct." I took the hand he offered and shook it.

Then I noticed the people walking towards us across the stage. Two looked remarkably like siblings, both with shades of red hair; the woman with green eyes and the man with brown.

"This is Beth Reed, she'll be playing Marthe; this is Sam Allen, he's playing her brother Valentin." James said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Beth said.

"Hello." Sam added.

Then I noticed a man standing behind them. Lean and not too tall, he could have passed for a teenager with his blonde hair, blue eyes and boyish face.

James noticed me looking and smiled. "That's John Matthews, he's fairly shy. You'll get to know him as we work on the play."

I nodded to him. "It's nice to meet all of you, but isn't someone missing? Who's playing Mephistopheles?"

"That would be me." A voice came from off stage. I turned to look and saw a man with dark hair, blue eyes, tall and slightly muscular. I wouldn't be surprised to see him on the cover of a magazine.

"So you're the one playing the devil." I commented.

"Yes I am, my name is Alexander Cole. You must be Christine." He replied.

That was the second time one of them knew me before they saw me. "How do you know who I am?" I asked, a confused expression on my face.

"The producer has been raving about you for the last three days." Alexander said with a grin.

"I thought rehearsals started today?" I asked.

"For you." James said. "We've been going over parts of the first act."

That made sense. "Why has he been to quote Alexander, 'raving' about me?" I asked curiously.

"Because you were the last role to get cast." Beth said.

I gave her a confused look. "What does that have to do with anything?"

James sighed. "The producer is very attached to this show. He wanted the perfect Marguerite. He couldn't find one until he heard you."

"Oh." That would explain why Erik was so interested in me the other night.

"Wonderful! You've all gotten acquainted with Christine!" Mr. Drake was walking up the centre aisle, closely followed by Erik.

Our eyes met and held for a moment, but I had to look away to hide my blush. Today was going to be a long day.

**A/N: Please R&amp;R!**


	5. Realization

**A/N: Sorry if my tenses are a little weird. I haven't written in a while and I'm still figuring out which is most comfortable. I do not own Phantom of the Opera. I just play with them for my own amusement.**

Christine's POV:

We had been rehearsing for a couple of days now and things have been going great. I've been having lots of fun and the rest of the cast is amazing. Tonight I'm going out to dinner with Erik. He came up to me after rehearsal yesterday and told me that he wanted to take me out to dinner to discuss my character.

I hear the doorbell ring and answer the door. Erik is standing there looking handsome as ever; my breath catches. He holds out a single red rose to me. I take it, and for a moment I have that feeling again. That strong feeling of déjà vu.

"You look lovely Christine." He says.

"Thank you." I smile, placing the rose on a table in my front hall. "So, where are we going?"

"A small little restaurant I like, it's a surprise." He offers me his arm and leads me out to the street. I was expecting us to get into a cab, but he just starts walking down the street.

"Where is it?" I ask.

"Not too far." He replies. "It's just a short walk from here."

He was right. We had only been walking for about ten minutes when he stops in front of a lovely looking Italian restaurant. He leads me inside and we are immediately seated in a quiet corner in the back.

"What can I get you to drink?" Our server asks, passing us the menus.

"I'll just have water, thanks." I say.

"I'll have the same." Erik adds.

The server nods and walks away.

I pick up the menu and start looking through it, so many good-looking choices. After debating for a moment I decide on the lasagna.

"Are you ready to order?" The server places our drinks on the table.

"I think so." Erik says. "Christine?"

"I'll have the lasagna with garlic bread please." I hand him my menu.

"And I'll have the chicken alfredo." Erik hands him his menu as well.

"Very good." The server walks away.

"So, how are you liking the play Christine?" Erik asks me, steepling his fingers together. "Everyone being nice?"

"Oh yes." I reply. "I love the story and everyone has been just lovely. Especially James." I smile.

He nods. "Yes, James has sort of installed himself as the older brother to the entire cast." He chuckles.

"He's very good at making me feel comfortable on stage."

"You've been nervous?" He asks.

I blush, a little embarrassed. "A little. I've never played a romantic lead before." I explain.

"Here you go." The server has returned with our dinners and sets them in front of us. We nod our thanks and he leaves.

"Understandable, I'm glad he's being a help to you. If you two weren't comfortable with each other it would be very hard to portray the romance."

"That's another thing I'm a little worried about." I say.

"Why's that?"

"I'm not sure how well I can portray that." I looked away from him, suddenly too aware of the palpable tension between us. "I've never been in love before." I say quietly.

He gives me a soft, friendly smile and takes my hand. "Christine, you were born to play Marguerite."

I felt a chill go up my spine. Images start flashing in my mind. Memories, of a life that's not mine and yet is at the same time. An opera house, we were putting on Faust then too. A man named Richard, chasing me romantically. Oh, how I wish I could have had the courage to say no then. Reflecting, I realize that I couldn't, not really. Women didn't do that back then. Then I saw Erik, but he was different. He was my teacher, his face was scarred and people were frightened of him. I wasn't, but I never got to tell him. Then I was falling, and back in the theatre from the present. I gasped. That's what happened in the theatre that day. I came back. My eyes widen as I look at Erik. He's got a worried expression on his face.

"Christine, are you all right?" He asks.

I can't respond. I don't know how to, knowing what I know now. I just stare down at my hands, my thoughts reeling. I hear Erik asking for the bill off in the distance.

"Christine." He takes my hand and puts his other arm around me.

I feel warm in his arms, like I'm meant to be there. That does nothing for my mind though. I can't process anything; it's all a mess in my head. Before I know it, we're back at my apartment and he's walked me to my door.

"Christine, is something wrong?" He asks again. I think he may be hoping that I'll come out of it now that I'm home.

"No, nothing's wrong." I reply quietly. "Thank you for the lovely evening." I walk into my apartment and close the door.

I sink to the floor, my back against the wall and start to cry. Nothing makes sense anymore.

**A/N: Please R&amp;R!**


	6. The Past and the Future

**A/N: So, I'm going on vacation next week, so I might not be able to update until I get back… I don't own Phantom of the Opera. I just play with them for my amusement.**

Christine's POV:

I haven't moved from the floor. I don't have the energy to do anything. I'm trying to sort out my thoughts. I'm pretty sure that those images I saw were memories. They were too detailed and had to many emotions connected to them to be figments of my imagination.

I mean, I can remember the warmth and love of Meg's friendship, just like my friendship with her now. Oh, Meg! Can I tell her about this? I don't think that she would believe me.

That man, Richard, I hated having to pretend to like him. I felt like I didn't have a choice though. He was so important, how could I have turned away his affections?

I remember Erik most of all. He was the Opera Ghost, the Phantom. People were terrified of him. He murdered people… and yet, that's all that scared me. His actions scared me, not his face. I remember it was scarred; that he thought no one could love him for who he was.

I was going to tell him that night. I was a little scared, who wouldn't be, but I wanted to try to see beyond his face. To get to know the real him, the brilliant composer who gave me my voice.

Then I remembered how that night ended. Richard showed up with all those policemen. Erik had knocked them down and was almost free when Richard ruined everything. He started toppling over the candelabras, setting fire to Erik's home. I was crying, screaming for him to stop, but he wasn't listening.

Then I was falling, almost floating for what seemed like forever. The next thing I remember is lying on the stage floor with Meg hovering over me. I was back in the present.

I let out a sob. Things were so different here, how can I go on now? I remember everything, how am I supposed to reconcile that with my life here? I can't tell anyone, they would think that I'm crazy.

I stared at my knees for a minute, just emptying my head of all thought. I had that sorted; now I needed to focus on the present.

This couldn't all be happening for no reason. The similarities were to identical. Being best friends with Meg. Getting the part of Marguerite in Faust. Meeting Erik and finding out that he's a composer in this time too. The only question is: How to proceed? Should I pretend that I know nothing of the past and let things just happen? Or should I follow that path that I was robbed of in the past, because of the fire?

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know it's short, but I just needed to let Christine vent and sort out everything. Please R&amp;R!**


	7. A Revealing Rehearsal

**A/N: I don't own Phantom; I just play with them for my amusement. Sorry for the long wait, didn't have Wi-Fi while on vacation.**

Christine's POV:

I was in the middle of a scene with James. It was the scene in the prison, where Faust has come to save Marguerite. I was a little uncomfortable today, Erik was at the practice and I could feel him staring at me the whole time.

It was my part and I started singing. It took all my will power to concentrate on James and the scene and not look over at Erik.

Then it was James's turn and we followed the blocking accordingly.

"No! Stop!" Erik shouted. "James, you need to put more emotion behind it. You've come to save her; to sacrifice yourself for her."

"Okay." James said.

"From Marguerite's part then." He responded.

The music started up and I sang my part. When James was singing his part we were stopped again.

"No! It's still not right. Let me show you." Erik walked onto the stage and took James's place.

I became really nervous then. I took a deep breath and just told myself that I could do it. I wouldn't let this affect me.

I sang my part and led into Faust's. Erik started to sing and I went weak at the knees. His voice was like heaven. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. I could hear the love in his voice; see it in his eyes. Deep down I hoped that this love was for me, not just my character.

We finished and I couldn't believe it. He was brilliant; absolutely brilliant I also knew that I sang better when I sang with him.

"That is how it should be done." Erik was saying to James. "You should feel as if your love for her is consuming you, filling you up completely." He smiled at me. "Especially when you have such a beautiful and talented Marguerite to be singing to."

That made me blush the deepest shade of red. Thankfully that was it for the day and I went to find Meg. If today was any indicator, there was no way that I could simply continue on as if I knew nothing.

That was it. My mind was made up. I would tell Meg, and either she would think I was crazy or she would believe me.

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is really short. I just needed this to get to the next part of the story.**


	8. Telling Meg

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. My muse has been very absent for the last couple of weeks. Hope you like what it finally gave me. I don't own Phantom, I merely play with them for my own amusement.**

Christine's POV:

"Okay, so what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Meg asked.

We were at my place, sitting in my living room drinking tea. I'd been so stressed when I got home that I called Meg immediately, telling her to come over. When she saw how stressed out I was, she made me some tea to calm me down. That's part of what I love about Meg; she always knows what I need, even if I don't.

"Erik." I replied.

"So, still got a thing for the producer then?" She smiled at me.

"No, I mean yes. There's something more though." I sighed, I just had to come out and say it. "We knew each other in a past life." I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see that look that said 'are you crazy?'.

After a moment, Meg spoke. "Why do you think that?"

I opened my eyes, a little shocked. She seemed so calm. So I answered her question. "Remember that piece I sang for my audition?"

"Yeah, the one that I found deep in the library." She nodded for me to continue.

"He wrote it. He was Erik Destler." I explained.

"And you know this how?" She asked, a little skeptical.

"I remember." I said. "That's what happened when I fell. I relived all of it. We were in the late 19th century; I was a singer at an opera house in London. You were there too."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, we were best friends, just like we are now. You were a dancer."

"Where does Erik come in?" She asked.

"I didn't know him as Erik then. He was my music teacher; he made me a great singer. He was known as the Phantom of the Opera." I looked down into my tea. I knew it was starting to sound a little crazy, even to my own ears.

"So what happened?" She took one of my hands and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Well, I was being _courted_ by a man named Richard. I know now I didn't have much of a choice, but boy was he irritating." I scowled; remember his over attentiveness, treating me like a piece of china that might break.

"So, he and Erik clashed?" She guessed.

"You could say that. Now, you have to understand that Erik truly was the Phantom of the Opera. He was dedicated to me, wanted me to be a star. He did everything he could to make that happen."

"What do you mean Christine?"

"He killed people." I cringed, remembering those poor people that died.

"Well, he must have truly loved you then." Meg said.

That was the last response I was expecting. I gave her a questioning look.

"No man, no sane man kills for no reason. If he was killing for you, he must have loved you a great deal."

"Yes, he did." I replied. "As bad as this might sound, I fell in love with him too. He did so much for me and I never even thanked him." I felt truly guilty about that. "It was all so crazy by the end, I'm not sure I could have told him if I'd had the opportunity. That's what I was going to do that last night. Planning to do at least. We were in his lair and he wanted me to make a choice. Love or music."

"Love or music, what does that mean?"

"He thought that I was in love with Richard. I wasn't, but at the time I didn't know how to say that. I mean, he was one of the owners of the theatre. I wasn't sure what would happen to me if I refused him." I could feel the tears behind my eyes. How I wish that things could have ended differently. "Erik thought that I would be choosing either him or Richard. That I wouldn't be able to have love and music." A tear rolled down my cheek.

"That's not true, is it?" Meg asked in a quiet voice. She took my hand, held it tight. "That's not the choice you would have had to make."

"There wasn't any choice really. As I saw it, Erik was both for me. Love _and_ music." I gave Meg a small smile. "Then Richard had to show up and ruin everything. He was trying to save me, he said. They fought and before I knew what was happening, everything was on fire. I started to fall, and the next thing I remember is waking up in the theatre with you."

"So you've known since that fall? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She asked, worry evident on her face.

"I didn't, not at first anyway. I just had this feeling about Erik." I explained. "When he took me out for dinner to discuss my character, that's when it happened. He said something that just triggered it. All the memories came flooding back in a matter of seconds."

We were both completely silent for a few minutes. Meg was processing what I'd told her, and I was breathing a mental sigh of relief. I felt so much lighter now that I had someone to talk to about all of this.

"So, what are you going to do?" She finally asked. "Are you going to tell him that you know?"

"Maybe. For now I think I just want to see where this thing between us goes. I didn't get a chance with him then, I'm sure as hell not giving up on him now. I'm taking this second chance and I'm not going to let it go to waste."

**A/N: Please R&amp;R!**


	9. First Dates and Confessions

**A/N: I don't own POTO, I just play with them for my own amusement. So, I've done a little time jump, just a couple of weeks. I didn't know what to put in there. Enjoy!**

Christine's POV:

It was the night of our first date. Erik and I have been growing closer of the past weeks and it's been wonderful. I'm so happy that this time I'm actually getting to know him as a person. Yesterday he finally asked me if I would go out to dinner with him, not business related. I said yes right away and had to contain my excitement so that I didn't scream.

I was standing outside my house and he had just pulled up in his car. He drove a gorgeous '73 Challenger; bright red with black lines across the hood. Not many people knew, but I was a bit of a car enthusiast.

"I love your car." I said, getting into the passengers seat.

"Thank you. I just love the look of older cars. They had more style than the things people are driving around today." He smiled at my compliment.

"I know, colours are starting to disappear. Everything looks so boring now." I gave a small laugh.

He had chosen a nice restaurant, not too fancy, but nice and quiet. We were in the middle of our meal, discussing old cars. It was so much fun, I hardly ever found someone who loved older cars as much as I did. Well, older people, but never anyone closer to my own age.

"When I was growing up my parents had a gorgeous '67 Impala. According to my dad, they bought it just after I was born. I'm not sure whether I believe him, but I loved that car." I smiled at the memory.

"What do you drive?" Erik asked.

"Nothing, not worth it in New York. Too much traffic and taxi cabs." I paused, thinking for a minute. "If I ever moved out of the city I might buy one though. Maybe not an Impala, but some sort of classic car. Fix it up and drive it around whenever I want. That, or just admire it."

"You know, you are the strangest young woman I've ever met." He steepled his fingers, giving me a thoughtful look.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked.

"Good, it means you're unique. That's what I like about you the most." He smiled at me.

In moments like this, I had trouble reconciling the Erik I knew then with the Erik I know now. He's changed so much. He's gentle, kind, caring. Come to think of it, he may have been those things then; I just never got to see that side of him.

Then the waiter came with the check. Erik paid, then took my hand and led me out of the restaurant.

"Would you like to come back to my place for drinks?" He asked.

"Of course." I replied.

When we entered Erik's home, I wasn't surprised in the least. Lavishly decorated, the halls were covered in paintings and there were ornate rugs on the floor. He led me into what I assumed was the living room and went to get our drinks. I looked around and of course there was a small organ sitting in the corner. I walked over to it and had a look over. It was beautiful.

"Do you play?" I jumped at the sound of his voice. "Did I startle you?"

"Just a little." I replied, taking the offered drink. "And no, I don't play, but I knew someone who did." I hoped that wasn't cutting it too close.

"Did?" He asked, not suspicious in the least. "What happened to them?"

I looked down at the floor, trying to keep my emotions in check. He couldn't know that I knew. I mean, technically he never died. He was standing right in front of me for crying out loud! I had to play this right, let him think it was somebody else. Somebody from this life.

"He died, quite suddenly. He was a teacher of mine and I cared for him deeply." I said, being as vague as possible.

"He was a teacher of yours?" He asked.

"Yes, it was a great loss to many people."

"I'm sorry for your loss." He said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"That's all right, it was a long time ago." I said, trying to put on a smile. Looking at the organ I remembered. "Didn't you tell me that you compose music?"

He stammered a bit in his answer. "Y-Yes, but it's not finished yet."

"Please, can I hear some of it?" I pleaded. I desperately wanted to hear him play again. I'd wanted that since the day he sang with me in rehearsal.

He hesitated for a moment, but gave in to my pleas. He sat at the organ and started to play the aria from Don Juan Triumphant. After the first twelve bars, he stopped. He looked at me in what I can only describe as shock.

I had a smile on my face; he played so beautifully. "Why did you stop?" I asked.

"Your audition, you sang this song." He whispered.

"How is that possible?" I tried to cover. "You're writing this now. The piece I sang, Meg found it buried in the basement of the library."

"No, you sang this song." He said with conviction. "Christine, how long have you known?"

There was no lying now; I just had to hope for the best. I took a deep breath. "Since that dinner before rehearsals started." I looked down at my hands. I didn't want to see him angry. I knew what that looked like and it wasn't pretty.

"So you've known all this time and yet you haven't run away." He didn't sound angry, he sounded as if he was in awe.

"Why would I run away?" I asked.

"Me."

**Please R&amp;R!**


	10. To Love the Soul

**A/N: Sorry about the long wait, I have had the worst writer's block ever. I don't own POTO.**

Christine's POV:

"That is absolutely ridiculous." I said.

"Is it?" He asked. "The last time we were together I kidnapped you."

"Not exactly. I don't think it can be kidnapping if I wanted to go with you."

"What? But I thought you wanted him, he came to save you." He truly seemed confused.

"I wanted to be with you. I just didn't feel as if I had a choice back then." I sighed. "He owned the opera house. I felt like he owned me. I was scared of what would happen if I refused him."

He stood there silently, stunned. "You mean to tell me you would have chosen music over love?" He said incredulously.

"No, because I wouldn't be choosing."

"I don't understand." He was getting frustrated. Men, things always had to be spelled out to them.

"I would have chosen you. For me you are both, love and music." I took a step closer to him. "I never loved Richard."

"You're lying." He spat. He turned away from me.

I put my hand on his arm. "Do you really think so little of yourself?" I turned him to face me again.

"I know you can't. It's part of the curse. I will never be loved for anything other than my music." He looked down at the ground, refusing to meet my gaze.

"That's on the surface. Your outer beauty was taken, that has nothing to do with the beautiful soul that's inside." I raised my hand to his cheek.

"You've never seen my whole face, the horror that hides under this mask."

"So show me."

"I can't, you'll scream and then you'll leave." He said desperately.

"Show me." I said more firmly. "I want to see your real face."

He sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He reached under the edge of his shirt collar and started to peel away his mask. He peeled it up and over his head until his entire face was revealed.

I let out a small gasp, but I didn't scream or run like he thought I would. It was like his face was covered in burns, some so bad that they had completely disfigured parts of his face.

"Had enough? Now do you see?" He asked spitefully.

"Oh Erik." I reached out a hand and touched his face, running it over the scarred skin.

"No one could ever love me this way."

"I love you." I pulled him closer and kissed him chastely on the lips.

He was silent, so I simply pulled him into my arms and held him close. We had been pulled apart before. I wasn't going to let that happen again.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed. You can decide what happens after this. Please R&amp;R!**


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